I Never Signed Up For This

OrchidsDear Ovaries,

We need to talk.  Seriously.

We’ve been on a first name basis for what – 46 years?  Okay, I guess you can effectively argue that I was completely unaware of your existence for the first ten years of my life, at which point you went into overdrive:  I was not only the first girl in my class to start her period, but the first to need a bra.  And when I say I needed to wear one, I needed to wear one – do you think we could have stopped at a reasonable cup size?  Like maybe a D?

I must confess you performed flawlessly once we got past the teenage years and the accompaning screaming meemies; I’m assuming the years between 12 and 17 were sort of like having your learners permit, or perhaps on-the-job training.  At any rate, I can only tell you how grateful I am for your faultless functioning once you got into the groove, for I could set my calendar by you.  In fact, you’ve worked a little too well – and I’ve got the children to prove it.

My three little indiscretions aside, I didn’t think much about you for the better part of 40 years.  Other than that little week-long inconvenience you sent my way every 28 days, I had no complaints – no surprises, no PMS even.  All was well in my little womanly world.


Until about 2 years ago, when things started to gradually – nay, insidiously – get out of whack.  For some reason, that week-long little inconvenience was no longer guaranteed to be a week long – it could last anywhere from 2 to 14 days.  Not only that, I could no longer set my calendar by you, for the 28-day schedule seemed to go right out the window.  We’re all over the place now – what’s with that?  Shouldn’t I have least gotten a memo or something?  It didn’t have to be much, just a line or two stating, “We’re sorry, but your regularly scheduled menses will no longer be regular.  Be prepared to be driven crazy for the next ten years.”

Nor is that my only beef with you, Ovaries.  I mean, I’ve been fairly even tempered most of my life.  Well, I can lose it, but it takes a great deal to make me lose it.  Or it used to.  Is it really necessary to make me froth at the mouth and want to burn a person’s eyes out with a red-hot poker just for asking me, “What’s for dinner?”  Is a little sanity too much to ask?

And then there’s the whole hot flash thing.  You know, I don’t really mind suddenly being hit with the feeling I’m standing in front of an open iron-smelting forge periodically – really, I don’t – but do you think you could at least send one my way when it would actually do some good?  Like NOW, maybe, while it’s -10 F outside and I’m sitting here in a sheepskin-lined coat inside my very own house?  Hmmm?

Anyhoo, I just thought I ought to bring these things to your attention.  I’d appreciate it if you’d hop right on this and get your shit together – we’ve been together way too long for you to lie down on the job like this.  Now, if you don’t mind, I need to go have a discussion with the Sun about this Seasonal Affective Disorder thing.



18 thoughts on “I Never Signed Up For This”

  1. I could have written a similar letter to my uterus. But I’m not on speaking terms with her right now as all she does is cause me problems. She had the nerve to take on a boarder without my knowledge. Ms. Fibroid was a relatively quiet tenant for many many years – right up until the past couple of years. I suspect that is because she sat around the house eating and eating until she’s grown to be enormous in size. And now, yes you guessed it, she’s no longer a quiet tenant. I’ve decided to get rid of my uterus and her tenant altogether this spring. I’ve had enough of their Shenanigans.

    Nothing Fancys last blog post..Friday Favorites. . . Childrens’ Books

  2. I thought I was going to bleed to death a few years ago…. was in my early 50’s at the time… Went to my gyno and had an ablation… what a difference! I could finally go to the mall and not have to worry about where all the bathrooms were located for those emergency moments… Highly recommend ablations to any of you gals out there suffering through the 2-14 days of menses.

    The Blue Ridge Gal

    Dis last blog post..The Map

  3. Oh man, I have written the same letter to my ovaries. Even though my ovaries didn’t give me boobs any bigger than a “C”. Which I guess could be a good thing. Depending on your POV. I’m sure men loooove your big jugs. hehe

    I turned 50 last August. I haven’t had a period since Nov. 1st. The period I had in September knocked me to my knees. I bled so badly for 24 hours (super tampon backed up by super pad soaked through every 1/2 hour for 24 hours I kid. you. not — even during the night) I thought I was going to collapse. Literally. I am hoping that was my uterus’s last hurrah, and that it’s not saving it up for three or four months, just to do that to me again. That was horrible.

    So yeah. This perimenopause-slash-menopause thing just so totally sucks. Don’t even talk about the crying at the drop of a hat. I usually have good control of my emotions — now I’m just a big puddle of tears at the STOOPIDist things.

    Good to know I’m not alone. Great post!!

    Midlife Mamas last blog post..Random Observations About Life

  4. LOL @ Sandi. Doesn’t take much for men to think that you want to get it on. They take EVERYTHING as a signal you want to get it on. This perimenopause thing makes my skin itchy. All I have to do is stick my hand in my pants to scratch my belly and my hubs is all over that. LOL

    Midlife Mamas last blog post..Random Observations About Life

  5. Too funny…but not too funny for you, I’m sure. I haven’t had any of my “equipment” for almost 20 years now since I had to have major surgury at 26 and have NOT missed them either. It did mean that I went into early menopause or what I like to call mental-pause, and that has not been a joy ride…with the windows down(even in this fricken cold)and all!

    Loris last blog post..Life in the deep freeze

  6. This letter is full of funny. Hugs to you though for having to endure this. It doesn’t sound like a dance in the park, that’s for sure.

    Quite frankly I just want all my girl parts removed, with no side effects. Mine never worked anyway, I’m barren and bitchy about it, so I don’t understand why I have to endure a period every month that brings me to my knees, ovarian cysts that sometimes make it painful to walk, and I also get to look forward to menopause…something is wrong with this picture. Damn ovaries!

    tricias last blog post..Do You Let It All Hang Out?

  7. I actually like my Ovaries’s new lifestyle. She’s kind of a free spirit these days, apparently away travelling a good part of the year…drops by infrequently and whoops it up to let me know she’s still around but other than that, hardly ever see her. It’s a nice change from the previous 34 years when she was so miserable and bent on slowly driving me crazy…sure she paid her rent on time, regular as a clock…and never took in any visitors of the Fibroid variety or anything like that…but damn…what a miserable bitch. The makeover is ok by me.

    Sorry your’s is making life difficult for you….

    Thistles last blog post..Late-Night-Friday Fill-Ins #107

  8. Sometimes I wonder how curiosity hasn’t killed me yet (sigh). Between you and Marinka at Motherhood In NYC, I have learned so much in the past couple of weeks.

    Information that could very well keep me alive 😉

    Good luck with all that. And let me know what the Sun has to say, I got questions on that, too.

    Irish Gumbos last blog post..Jacked Of All Trades

  9. My ovaries got fed up with their hostile environment and vacated. They took the uterus, cervix and fallopian tubes plus the body temperature thermostat with them when they left. I don’t miss them at all, except for that thermostat. They were bad tenants and caused me nothing but pain and anxiety. Now I have times when I swear I’m going to spontaneously combust and now I have an innertube around my middle where a slim waist use to be. Life just isn’t fair.

    Midlife Slicess last blog post..Turtles Turtles and More Turtles.

  10. All I can say is that it gets better. My ovaries have decided to go on a 6 month hiatus. Every 6 months they decide to surprise me. According to my OB/GYN I’m pretty much done. WTF does pretty much mean? I’m only 49 so I guess I have to be happy that my ovaries are over-achievers.

    Micheles last blog post..Struggling Economy

  11. Thanks for the laugh, Jan! It takes another menopausal woman to understand these things completely. Now, if I could just get my husband to understand that it’s not MY fault when I practically bite his head off for asking me a question.

    Gingers last blog post..Southern Collards

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